


Proprietorial

by Attack_on_mgl



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon divergence - Post-Manberg festival, Demonic Possession, Dom/sub Undertones, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Permanent Death AU, Psychological Torture, Wilbur Soot-centric, slow burn but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attack_on_mgl/pseuds/Attack_on_mgl
Summary: Wilbur liked Dream more than he cared to admit.He just didn't like it when he was off with him.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Herobrine (Minecraft), Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 16
Kudos: 298





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) The characters in this a based 100% of off the Minecraft personas, not the actual creators  
> 2) Please have a skim back through the tags To make sure no upcoming content is triggering!!

He closed his eyes and gave himself a moment to breathe.

To process the previous five minutes.

His shaky fingers paused midway through threading his belt back through the loops, and he looked over at the other man somewhat hesitantly.

"You okay?" Dream repeated, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

His lips were still wet, and quite swollen, and for some reason it gave Wilbur's ego a little buzz.

"Yeah."

"Cool."

It wasn't awkward.

Slightly tense? Maybe.

It had been a spare of the moment thing.

A simple distraction after the disastrous events of the past couple days.

A somewhat angry altercation that had ended up with the masked man dropping to his knees.

"Thought you were gonna scalp me, or something."

Wilbur scoffed – "You're unbelievable." – even though he knew the sight of Dream sat in the W position, eyes pricked with tears and hair disheveled, would plague his mind for a fucking while.

He wondered if anyone had heard.

Niki was up on the surface, sat at the river bank with Tommy and Tubbo, giving Quackity a proper welcome. Beer and food and potentially underage drinking, but it was a stressful time… and God knew Tommy deserved a little bit of fun.

He trusted that if Techno was around, he wouldn't mention anything.

The chat was meant to of been a quick scolding in the privacy of the fight pit – a verbal warning not to disappear for days at a time.

Dream wasn't of meant to _make it up to him_ , or look so addictive with his lips around a cock.

Wilbur wasn't meant to like it.

He _shouldn't_ have liked it.

 _"…You've had practice?"_ He'd murmured with a hazy smirk, fingers threaded through the blond hair, pulling it as Dream could only hum weakly.

The small click of a clasp and the ruffle of clothes caught his attention.

The mask was on and the hood was up, hands slipping easily into fingerless gloves.

And, despite seeing the routine many times, he couldn't help but frown. "When are you gonna show Quackity your face?"

"In a bit."

"Oh." It made sense. It would be weird to just leave, and then come back ten minutes later without his mask. It was smart to let himself calm down a bit, too. "You, uh… you should give your knees a minute, as well."

Dream stuck out his leg and tilted his head downwards at his ripped jeans. He laughed lightly. "That is a great idea."

It looked painful.

Wilbur suddenly felt bad for not putting his coat down or something. Kneeling on straight up bumpy, probably sharp, stone didn't sound very comfortable.

"Should I see if we've got any healing?"

"I'm alright." He looked back up at Wilbur. "Thanks, though."

Despite the permanent smile on the mask, the brunet could hear the genuine smile in his voice, even if it was a little muffled.

He watched as Dream then pushed his back off the wall and began a slow walk out the pit and towards the steps leading to the surface.

"…Please don't mention this to anyone, by the way." Wilbur didn't like how quiet the younger man had suddenly gotten. "It was just a one off, anyways, so…"

"Yeah, uh, yeah, obviously." He offered a hasty laugh to try and ease the sudden seriousness. "Let know if you wanna talk or anything."

"Talk?"

His mouth went dry. "Yeah. Like… talk about what's just happened."

The hesitancy in Dream's voice was abundantly clear. "There's nothing to talk about, Wilbur. Just drop it. It's unprofessional."

He wanted to ask questions but the blond was already making his way up the steps; conversation over.

Wilbur pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head rest back against the cobblestone with a soft thud.

Dream's bluntness was infuriating. He hated how quickly he could end or change a topic, and hated how managed to control almost ever situation he was presented with.

But watching him leave was so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and kudos are very pog and are a big motivation to keep this fic up :) constructive criticism and feedback is also very much welcome <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, thank you guys sm for the kudos, bookmarks and comments! I'm relatively new to the fanfiction-side of the fandom, so its really nice to see that people liked the first chapter :)
> 
> Also for reference, Techno's design in my head is more or less SAD-ist's design, with the cool mask, etc!

It wasn't the most noticeable thing, but after failing to block out the little hisses and winces coming from the younger man, Wilbur couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty.

Dream's knees were bruised.

Patches of blue and green and yellow on his skin, visible to those that had actively flickered their gaze downwards, as if only they knew the cause of pain.

And thank god, only Wilbur knew the cause of pain.

 _"Hey, um… Can I borrow you, for a sec?"_ had given them some privacy as they stood at the entrance of the Prime Path and it's tunnel, Dream with his back against the wall, and Wilbur fidgeting a few feet opposite him.

The blond looked up at him briefly – "So?" – only to glance back down at the mask in his hands, fingers twiddling with the strap in apparent boredom. "…Not gonna get your cock out again, are you?" A small smile tugged at his lips as he gave him a once-over.

Wilbur blushed. 

"No. No, actually, I _won't_ –" His brows knitted together somewhat sternly. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Dream's previous smirk softened. "…I'm doing okay."

"And your legs?"

"I'll live."

Wilbur nodded slowly; deep down he knew that the speedrunner had sustained much worse injuries, so he needed to stop worrying.

Maybe it was just his leadership kicking in.

"I have no idea if I said it yesterday but, um… it was nice. You a did fucking good job. You know… _credit where credit is due_ , and all that."

He watched as Dream bit his lip, diverting his eyes.

_Oh no._

"I-I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, so yeah, I'll, um, I'll drop it now." He quickly clarified and offered a small, nervous chuckle.

The blond opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it as his eyes widened. "Techno–"

Wilbur turned sharply to his right, mouth drying up.

Technoblade glanced at them both blankly. "…This is interesting."

"Did you fucking follow us–"

"That's beside the point."

Wilbur backed up as the pink haired man began to stroll up to them, with Dream sinking in on himself awkwardly.

Wilbur didn't like how the younger man had suddenly gotten on the defensive.

"There's no point lyin' to me; I heard the whole damn thing in real time." He glanced at Dream briefly. "I'd suggest some healing for you knees– _oh,_ okay then. Suffer in silence for all I care." The middle finger was lowered but Techno was still being glared at.

It was ever so slightly amusing.

"…All I'm sayin', is when I'm farmin'… don't… don't disgrace the fight pit, please. It's not meant for that kind of thing."

"I haven't got time for this." With a huff Dream was shoving past the taller man and disappearing, presumably, back to the others, no other words said.

Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "He didn't want anyone to know."

"Not my fault you both couldn't keep quiet."

"Techno. I'm fucking serious." He hissed. "For my sake, and his, just don't mention it to anyone."

"Not even Niki?"

"What's Niki got to do with it? _No_ , not even Niki. Not _anyone_."

Techno nodded somewhat reluctantly, shrugging. "Fine, whatever. Just don't go off the rails if it gets out."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I know how you get when things don't go your way." He explained, taking Dream's spot and leaning against the cobblestone as comfortably as possible. "You like to be in charge. You like give out the orders, and control how things happen… now, I'm not sayin' that's a bad thing; I just think you need to relax a bit with all the leader-y stuff, that's all."

The brunet frowned.

There was no point arguing with the man. They were both stubborn as shit and they wouldn't get anywhere.

"It was a _one time thing_ , anyways, if I recall correctly. Just never mention it again, and you'll both be fine."

Wilbur really wished it were that simple.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur in a tunnel
> 
> What will he do

It was pitch black – the warm torches in their hands the only light source, and their slow footsteps the only sounds. 

_"I didn't send you idiots a set of coordinates for nothing."_ Schlatt's growl was still floating in his mind. _"It's your SMP. Get in there."_

Tommy's laughing had died down pretty quickly after the Emperor had made it clear that he was serious; making an exception to let them be in his presence, because he _didn't want glitches fucking up Manberg._

The brunet tugged lightly on Tommy's sleeve to stop him from trailing behind – he wasn't worried, though. Not at all. 

Dream had instinctively taken the lead and disappeared into the darkness, the glow of his own torch barely visible as he wondered deeper and deeper down the tunnel. 

Wilbur wanted to think it was just another effort to avoid him, but deep down he knew it was just the blond being protective. 

In his defence, though, it _had_ been a week. 

Seven days of Dream ignoring him and seven days of Wilbur trying not to snap. 

It hadn't been plesant. 

He only wanted to talk – a _proper talk_ , to make sure the younger man wasn't overthinking anything – but that apparently wasn't going to happen any time soon. 

Dream had prioritized keeping an eye on Quackity and making sure he was having the safety and freedom that he was promised… and yet, somehow, it drove the ex-president mad. 

The 19 year old would just go on and on about Dream's fucking face as if it were some kind of religion, and no one would bat an eye. 

The worst part was that Dream loved the attention. He revealed in it, even. 

Wilbur wanted to be the one giving him the attention. He wanted to be the one to talk about how _cool_ he looked. 

_…How gorgeous he looked when his eyes were pooled with tears… how his pants turned into little, soft breaths after choking on a cock and not being allowed to breathe._

He knew he was jealous, which was stupid, consisting Quackity was just excited… and Wilbur? well, Wilbur didn't really know what he was. 

This was definitely a first for him. The one and only intimate moment they'd ever shared, and yet he found himself a little bit addicted. 

The only good thing was that Techno had kept his mouth shut and only 'spoke' of the topic through subtle glances and the occasional, knowing smirk. 

He'd always announce when he was going to the potato farm, though. That was definitely a new thing. 

"What the fuck was that–" 

Tommy's footsteps suddenly stopped, and Wilbur turned to raise a brow at the teen worriedly. "What?" 

"I fuckin heard something." He muttered, eyes wide and darting about frantically. "Someone said my fuckin name, Wil." 

Wilbur felt his heart sink a little bit. 

Tommy was never one to show his fear right off the bat – he'd always, _always_ put on a brave face and spill his thoughts in the aftermath. 

So this was weird. 

"…Was it Dream?" 

"Hell no, he's too ahead to–"

He watched as the blond stilled, wide eyes staring down the tunnel. Frozen. 

Slowly Wilbur turned back around. 

His heart fucking plummeted. 

The silhouette was somehow darker than the tunnel. 

It's eyes were paper-white – glowing hazily like a dim, broken flashlight. Like the headlights of a parked car in a fog, just sitting at the side of the road. 

The decent space between them didn't help calm Wilbur's nerves. 

It didn't move. Just stood, standing. 

_Staring._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem a bit odd but it's a biggggg plot thing so bare with it :)

The sun was blinding as his head hit the blanket, fingers grazing over the soft tartan-print beneath him. 

He exhaled, content.

"Never had you down as a _summer time_ kinda guy." 

"Never had you down as a _picnic_ kinda guy." Wilbur retorted playfully, head turning slowly to look over at the other man with a smile. 

Dream smirked. "Oh really?" 

"Yeah. Mr SMP has _taste_." 

"Okay, now you're just being narrcisistic–" 

"I'm complimenting you." The brunet chuckled. "You've dragged me out here and can't accept a little love? It's the least you deserve." 

At that, Dream stilled, his cheeks flushing as he huffed. "You're an idiot, you know." 

Wilbur grinned widely. "You literally made ham and cheese sandwiches–" 

"Hey! It's a classic." 

"Let's have a look at them then."

Carefully the woven hamper was opened, Dream's gloved hands unclipping the hatches almost purposefully slow. 

Wilbur knew he was just taking the piss, teasing him with little subtly; It was obvious by the small smirk tugging at his lips and the glint in his eyes… not that that was a bad thing. 

Without a word, the blond dug his hand in and began placing all sorts around them –punets of berries, cans of drink, a bag of cookies, and of course, ham and cheese sandwiches. 

"I knew you weren't just a pretty face."

The silent treatment he got in response was expected, only causing the older of the two to snort loudly and reach over to rub his date's knee affectionately. 

He was then handed a folded piece of paper. 

"You've gotta read this." The quieter tone was, however, unexpected. 

The paper crinkled loudly as it was unfolded, Wilbur's brows furrowing together as six thick black letters stared back at him. 

_**Wake up** _

He turned his head to the side, laughing lightly. "What's this about, then?" 

Dream smiled… sadly. He looked genuinely miserable, putting on a front with teary eyes. It was like he'd just been told his pet had died and was in denial. "…You, uh… You have to wake up, Wilbur. _Please_." 

The brunet was quick to sit up and shuffle so he was sat opposite, his own eyes widening worriedly. "What d'you mean? Dream–" 

"I _need_ you to wake up." He trembled. "Please, Wilbur, _please_. Y-You've gotta wake up–" 

"What are y–" 

" _Wilbur._ " 

His first sight was burnt orange – cosy heat that pricked his eyes with tears – and the second sight was green – soft against the side of his face.

Dream hovered over him, distress written all over his face as his teeth dug down into his lower lip. "Wilbur, look at me– can you hear me?" 

At the sound of his name Wilbur flinched, a quiet " _fuck_ " escaping him as he blinked.

The blond let out a laugh – a loud one at that – and hugged the older man closer to his chest, just giggling in utter relief. "Holy shit! Don't ever do that to me again, oh my god." 

Wilbur grimaced.

_…What the hell just happened?_

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos are very pog and are a big motivation to keep this fic up :) constructive criticism and feedback is also very much welcome <3


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